


L'Osservatore

by HSavinien



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Devotion, Introspection, Love, M/M, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Loves Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, POV Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Post-Canon, Watching Someone Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26275513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HSavinien/pseuds/HSavinien
Summary: Joe is napping.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 26
Kudos: 266





	L'Osservatore

“You’re staring, my love. Stop it and let me sleep,” Joe murmurs without opening his eyes, the sunbeam illuminating his mouth and picking out the two strands of silver that had sparked in his beard before his first death.

“I’m not even looking at you,” Nicky lies, voice as bland as milk. “I am reading my book and watching Andy struggle with a crossword.”

“Cheeky,” Andy says. “I know what this is, just not in English.”

Nile cranes her neck around to look at it. “Double dog dare. ‘Double dog’ fits the blanks.”

Joe stretches one arm up to tuck behind his head on the couch, his shirt riding up just a little. A tiny stripe of skin shows above his waistband. His eyes stay closed, but the laugh lines at the corners crinkle, just a little.

Nicky watches him show off fondly.

The form his eyes trace over is as well-known as a novena, gaze following a pattern worn of practice that he will repeat and repeat until his final death. There are no words for him that fit the enormity of the two of them. The only reference he has ever had for such consuming, eternal love is that he was promised from God. And so he has it, in this man with whom God has granted him so much time.

Nile helps Andy defeat the crossword and they amble outside to enjoy the weather and practice the mélange of handsigns that the team uses together - some American or French or Arabic Sign Language, some military from a mix of continents and centuries, some the things they made up (Andy and Quỳnh and Lykon, Nicky and Joe) before they shared any fluent spoken language.

The sunbeam shifts, slowly, as they do. Nicky watches it slide over Joe’s mouth, down his jaw, and across the thin skin of his throat, where his pulse throbs slowly, sunlight pooling in the dip between his collarbones. Joe’s posture softens as he slips into true sleep.

Joe has fed him in sweetness since Yusuf and Niccolò shared no more than a few halting words in Greek, soothing his soul as he made all recompense he could for the harm he did. Joe always has the most beautiful words, when Nicky can only share the simplest sentiments. I love you. We are destined to be together. You are beautiful and good and wondrous.

They are important words, these, but simple and unmusical. They never seem enough to encompass his feelings for Joe. Joe has no such doubts, and has told him so, but he is a poet and an artist (Nicky’s love is such a magnificent artist) and his devotion comes with color and beauty and grace that leaves Nicky feeling blinded by its glory.

There was never a man like Yusuf before. There never shall be another.

The sunbeam warms the soft green cotton of Joe’s shirt, tracing like fingers, like an adoring mouth down his chest.

“I have nothing to give you but all of me,” Nicky tells him, barely a whisper. He has said it before and it is as true in English in 2020 as it was in 1105 in Arabic.

Joe’s eyes flutter in his dreaming. Nicky watches him. It is so good to watch him at peace and beautiful in softness, though he is beautiful too as a blade in battle, in the intensity of a scholar, in all the places he excels or simply enjoys himself. 

Joe's fingers twitch, his mouth purses, and he is waking, slowly, gently coming back to himself in a way he never does when he returns from death. Nicky lays his book aside and crosses to him, bending down to greet him with a kiss. 

"I love to watch you sleep," he says, and it is true, but it is still too simple. 

"I know," Joe says, his heart showing in his eyes. Maybe it is enough. 


End file.
